A Week in My House
by MinnieMay14
Summary: *UPDATED*Omi living with Schwarz for a week? And Shuldig living with Weiss? How will Brad cope?
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own any of the Weiss or Schwarz boys. They belong to Koyasu Takehito and I'm not trying to kidnap them for my own and make them all do spontaneous yaoi things to each other, even though we all know that would make Weiss Kreuz a whole lot better.... not in the eyes of any legals, that is.... Anyway, I also don't own Shuuichi Shindo (Gravitation) or Sae Sawanaguchi (Mahou Tsukai Tai); I'm just borrowing them for, like, two seconds! Please don't sue me if I forgot anything. I have no money and won't be able to feed my kitty if I'm in jail. Arigato.

Warnings: Language, slapstick violence, literally "alternative lifestyle"-_-; /yaoi, Farfie on Prozac, and beware of my twisted sense of humor and random insertions. 

Pairings: Shu/Brad, Nagi/Omi; some Ken/Omi and suggested Shu/Yohji

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Chapter One

Brad Crawford let out a heavy sigh as he flopped into his favorite armchair after a long day of work. Actually, in his opinion, there had been more stupidity going on than work that day. Schwarz had a new assignment, and unfortunately for Brad's twitching eye, that assignment involved Weiss. 

"How am I going to tell Schuldig?" he mumbled hopelessly to himself.

"Tell me what?" A nasally voice plundered in before an answer could be reached.

Crawford nearly leaped out of his chair 

when a tangle mass of orange hair

appeared by his head out of nowhere.

__

Heehee. I made a rhyme.

"Schuldig?" ha asked sheepishly, "How long have you been standing there?"

The red headed German scrunched his face up thoughtfully for a long minute, before shrugging. "I don't know." He replied lamely, swinging around the back of the chair to fall in Crawford's lap.

Crawford's eye twitched. _The stupidity continues..._

"So what did you want to tell me?" Schuldig repeated, running his slim fingers through Brad's coffee-brown hair.

Crawford cleared his throat nervously before explaining. "We, uh, have an assignment. It's actually an assignment where we will correspond with Weiss."

Schuldig raised an eyebrow. "We're working with the kittens?" he asked, removing Brad's glasses and tossing them over his shoulder. There came a soft _crack _as the lenses hit the hardwood floor and broke.

The eye gave a dangerous twitch.

"Sort of..." he continued as Schuldig proceeded to loosen his tie for him and discard it in a similar fashion as the glasses. "You see... we will be hosting their youngest member, Tsukiyono Omi, in our... home... for a period of one week. And in exchange, we will be sending one of our members to stay with Weiss for that same week."

Schuldig's eyes lit up like a child's on Christmas. Or Chanukah, or whatever the heck you celebrate, cause I don't want to sound inconsiderate and closed-minded. He paused in his task of unbuttoning Brad's shirt, and grinned suggestively at the older man. "You mean we get to play with the chibi kitten for a whole week?" He said excitedly.

Crawford's expression momentarily faltered. _Don't look into his eyes... _He kept thinking as he promptly glanced in every other direction. "Well, um, you see... we still have to give one of our members to them, right? And, well, after much consideration... uh..."

Schuldig's eyes went wide and shimmery in a pathetic Shuuichi imitation from the show Gravitation.

Heeheehee. I did it again. Did ya' see? 

"Bradley?" He whimpered, afraid of what was coming next, but not so distracted that he couldn't throw Brad's shirt backwards into the growing pile of accessories on the floor.

_Don't. Look. Into. His. Eyes... _Crawford was now staring strait up at the ceiling, his defective eye flickering spastically. "Shuldig," he said as firmly as possible with Schuldig contemplating the belt around his trousers. "You...er. Have to. Umm...go."

OK. That was fine. A bit choppy, maybe, but fine nonetheless.

Schuldig dropped the half-removed belt immediately. Huge swells of tears rolled down his cheeks, and for a moment, Brad thought the German was possessed by Sae Sawanoguchi. He sure had acquired the voice for it. "Bu-but Bradley!" he sobbed. "How can you turn me over to the evil clutches of Weiss?" He was suddenly sprawled on the floor with a spotlight shining on him dramatically. Biting a handkerchief, he whined, "Do you know what those dirty, _dirty_ kittens might DOto me?"

Crawford's eye seemed determined to set a speed record at the rate it was fluttering. "I'm more worried about what _you'll_ do to _them_." Brad commented.

"Then why are you sending me?!" Schuldig protested. "Why not you or Nagi or Farfie?"

"As the leader of Schwarz," Crawford explained, holding his eye in both hands, "it's my duty to stay here and supervise our side of the operation." That's one. "Secondly, if I give Farferello to them, they'll either all go insane or die before the week is over." That's two. "And finally, Nagi absolutely refused to go after I told him that Omi would be staying here. If you want to try to talk a depressed teen telekinetic out of seeing one of his only friends, you go right ahead. But I suggest you don't for your own physical health." That's-

At that moment, there came a loud whirring noise from the upstairs bathroom, followed by what sounded like Nagi shrieking and gargling at the same time. "Work! You stupid ball-hacking piece of shit!" he shouted. Then came a tremendous buzzing and the second floor vibrated.

There was a pounding heard at the bathroom door and Farferello yelled: "Nagi! Are ye all right?"

The vibrating seemed to grow stronger and Nagi barked back frantically: "I'm FINE! NOTHING'S wrong! DON'T come in!"

There came a _click_ as the door was pushed open anyway, echoed by the two girlish screams of their teammates. And then, complete silence.

...three.

Schuldig and Crawford exchanged a perturbed stare. _O-kay. _Shaking their heads, the two dismissed the... situation upstairs, and they returned to their conversation.

"But Bradley... I'll die without you."

"I'm sure you'll manage. Besides, Yohji will be there, remember?"

In a nonsensical flash, Schuldig was off Crawford's lap and dragging a huge suitcase out the front door.

Brad turned his warped eye to the author.

Brad: Hold on a second. How could he possibly get off me, get his suitcase packed, and get to the front door in under a second?

Author: It's a fic-trick. Don't press it.

Brad: But-

Author: DO NOT QUESTION THE ALLEN MIGHTY!!!

Brad: *meep* 

Turning back to Schuldig, he confirmed, "So, you're going?"

Schuldig didn't answer directly, but seeing as how he was chanting: "You don't get any for a we-ek! You don't get any for a we-ek!" Crawford took that as a 'yes.'

"All right then. Mission 'I Want a New Job' will commence tomorrow morning at 8:00 am. Until then, I'm going to get an aspirin from the bathroom and try to fix whatever the hell Nagi and Farferello did."

TO BE CONTINUED...

Plz don't ask what that Nagi thing was all about... ^_^;; Comments? Questions?? Threats to send me back to the drifting meteor I came from??? Plz review!!! I'm very shy and timid without support! Honest! 


	2. Omi arrives

Disclaimer: Same as before. I still have no money, so a lawsuit would not be fun ;_;

Warnings: Um, a lot of NagixOmi loviness?? 

*Sparkly eyes* Thank you to everyone who reviewed!!! I'm so happy!!! And *meep!* (Hides from the Nagi issue) Um, I did this chapter pretty quickly and it has a ton of goofy NagixOmi. Also, to Amiryn, I'll try to put some Schu/Yohji in later. And I'll try to make the chapters longer ^_^ My inspirations comes in small doses... Oh, and sorry to all those Bradley lovers out there- I'm mean to him. (Gets splattered with tomatoes from the Crawford Fan Club) Anyway, on to the next phase of craziness... 

Chapter 2

Day one. Sunday. 8:45 a.m.

Omi yawned loudly as he turned the front door knob to Schwarz HQ and threw open the door familiarly. Hm. So our little Omi has been there before? I wonder why... _mwahahahahahaha!_ But just before he could step into the entry hall, Crawford called him back from the limo sternly. "Omi, I am not your servant, and I am certainly not your mother. You _will_ help me carry your luggage inside."

Omi rolled his eyes in exasperation and walked back to where Brad was waiting amongst a pile of suitcases. Scanning the heavy load over carefully, Omi wisely swiped up the smallest bag, a Hello Kitty backpack, and ran into the house shouting: "I'm sure you can get the rest!"

As he entered the spacious hallway inside, Aya's last words to him before handing him over to Crawford echoed in his mind. "Remember these three things, Omi," he had whispered seriously. "One: Don't leave any food or drink unsupervised where someone could tamper with it. Two: Don't eat anything they fix you. Just say your fasting and it's against your religion. And three: _Always_ keep your door locked at night."

"Geez, Aya," Omi grumbled. "I'm staying with three Schwarz members under a strict assignment; not with some psycho, drug-dealing gang-bangers who want to screw me and sell me in a brothel."

Well... probably half of that was actually true, but Omi still trusted the black assassin group to some extent. Even if for only one reason...

"Omi!"

Omi dropped his backpack as that reason appeared at the end of the hall. "Nagi!"

Everything went into unnecessary slow motion as the two ukes got all happy faced and ran to embrace each other. Sparkly pink and gold fangirl bubbles floated around them as they shared a _long-passionate_-_kiss._

"I'm so glad you came!" Nagi exclaimed, panting slightly as he took Omi's hands in his own.

"Yeah," Omi agreed, feeling dazed. "We never get to see each other."

Nagi gave his koi a sly, evil, hint-hint, nudge-nudge look. "And now we'll be staying in the same house for a whole week..." he commented suggestively.

Unfortunately, before he could lean in for another kiss, a tremendously loud, angry-father-sounding voice burst in from the front door. "NAOE! TSUKIYONO!" Crawford demanded, outraged. "You get these damn bubbles out of my house IMMEDIATELY!"

All the pretty little love bubbles in the hall popped, replaced by giant stone-carved letters in the background spelling 'POOPY CRAWFORD.'

As Brad stormed in, arms loaded with suitcases, he ordered, "Tsukiyono. Come with me to your room. Nagi, go find Farferello.

Nagi promptly latched onto Omi's back and stuck his tongue out at Crawford. "Farfie can find himself," Nagi insisted. "_I_ want to know where Omi's room is."

Crawford readjusted his glasses with his middle finger, implying to Nagi that he was peeved enough to flip off a fifteen year old.

...Wait...Isn't Brad still holding all those suitcases?! How could he have a free hand to adjust his glasses if his hands are full?! What the- _grr_...damn that man... (Skips off with a random sugar and caffeine filled beverage to ponder the Utena movie.)

"Naoe, I hope you know that if the Weiss brat looses his virginity on this mission, I'm holding you completely responsible."

Nagi's eyes turned to slits. "I'd _love_ to be responsible for that, _Bradley._"

Omi, trying not to be rude, or perhaps just fearing for his life, mentioned: "Uh, guys? I'm still right here. I _can_ hear you."

All three of them sweat-dropped, smiled awkwardly, laughed even more awkwardly, and then glared suspiciously at each other.

The author is now mumbling to herself: "Psycho, schizophrenic assassins. I _seriously_ need to turn off this corrupting rap music and get a good night's sleep."

Anyway, a minute later, Brad led Omi (Nagi still attached to his back) into one of the guestrooms down the hall. Why do a group of estranged, psychic assassins have guestrooms in their safe house? I do not know. Just use your imagination.

Dropping all the suitcases immediately on the wood floor, Crawford began relaying the basic rules to Omi about living there. "Firstly, you will be excused from school this entire week. That means you will be eating all your meals here. I do the cooking, and you eat what and when we do." Omi was about to restate the excuse for eating that Aya had given him, but Brad raised a silencing hand. "And don't give me any of that crap about fasting and religion," he warned. Omi just nodded in embarrassment.

"Secondly," Brad continued, "if you should happen upon our third member, Farferello, this week, I suggest you keep your eyes averted and don't come in physical contact with him. And whatever you do, _don't_ touch his blender."

Omi gulped. He had encountered Farferello before, and the thought that he would be living under the same roof as the psychopath just crossed his mind. Instinctively, he took a step towards the window for an escape, but Crawford grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and hauled him up to his eye level. "They're _barred."_ He warned cryptically. 

Omi went cross-eyed staring at Brad's nose from such a close distance, and the taller man dropped his captive to the floor onto his butt. Of course, he had forgotten about Nagi, who was still strung over his back, and ended UP sitting DOWN on the young brunette's lap. Nagi smiled and groped Omi's ass.

"And _thirdly,_" Crawford boomed parentally, leaving the two teens trembling, "you are prohibited from entering the sleeping quarters of our _under aged _member, Nagi, after 9:00 p.m."

Nagi made a pouty face. "You spoil all my fun, Bradley."

Crawford's eye gave a trademark... well, you know. The atmosphere grew chill and misty swirls came drifting around him like he was going from discontented Dr. Jekyll to bloodsucking Mr. Hyde. He stared Nagi down mystically and hissed: "You make my life miserable, I'll shoot you in the head."

Nagi 'eeped' and hid behind Omi, who was starting to resemble a petrified stone.

With that, the mist and horror theme nonsense vanished. And Crawford, walking like Crawford does after a foreordained victory (_cough_ stick up the a$$! _cough_), left the boys alone in Omi's room.

There was a long, recovering silence, broken only by Nagi's nervous laughter. "Well," he finally said, voice breaking ever so noticeably, "welcome home."

* * *

Tick. Tick. Tick. Twitch.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Twitch.

Crawford was finding it hard to read his book with his eye twitching in correspondence to the cat clock on the wall. Just a few minutes before, out of pure anxiety, he had stabbed one of the cat's eyes out with a dull carving knife, and was now dealing with the consequences of his actions. Nothing is more disturbing than sitting alone in the night, with only a reading light, in your creaky living room, reading Edger Allen Poe... with a one-eyed cat clock staring at you. 

Brad shuddered.

About ready to retire for bed, he heard a faint _click_ from down the hallway of the guestrooms. "OH NO YOU DON'T!" he screamed, hurling one of the couch pillows through the darkness towards the sound. Omi's door instantly slammed shut.

__

Tick. Twitch. Tick. Twitch. Tick. Twitch twitch twitch.

Wondering if he should start seeing a doctor about his eye, Crawford decided he wouldn't ever sleep until he put a lock on Omi's door. From the outside. With no key. Then again, that would doubtfully stop Nagi and his telekinetic powers from getting in. This whole ordeal was making Brad's head hurt. He had been constantly separating Omi and Nagi all day, as they constantly tried to do naughty things to each other. _Kids..._ Brad thought to himself. _I'm just glad Schuldig isn't here to encourage them. But then... I wonder how he is?_

At that moment, the phone rang, startling Crawford into jumping out of his easy chair and landing face-first on the hardwood floor. His already taped-up glasses snapped in half. Grumbling about getting contacts, Crawford snatched the phone off the coffee table. "What?" he growled into the receiver.

"Bradley-poo," a German accented voice whined from the other end of the line.

"Schuldig?" Crawford confirmed, sitting up and glancing at the clock. "Why are you calling me now? It's after midnight."

"Bradley..." Sniffle. "They locked me in my room..."

For a moment, Brad forgot just _who_ he was talking to, and he instinctively cursed Weiss for their distrust. "Why on earth would they lock you in..." Oh yeah. This was Schu he was talking to. "Schuldig," he said, "what did you do this time?"

"I didn't do anything!" Schuldig shot back innocently. ***Stern Pause*** Schu cleared his throat. "OK. So maybe I wasn't on my best behavior today. Or at dinner. But I swear- Yohji took over my mind and forced me to pour the mashed potatoes down Aya's-"

"GO TO BED!" Crawford bellowed, slamming down the phone. His furious command must have been overheard, for just then, both Nagi's and Omi's doors slammed shut.

Crawford squeezed his loony eye shut. It was going to be such a long week.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Sorry it was so short and double-sorry I stopped there! I'm still trying to decide where to go with this, and it got too short when I took out a bunch of the private jokes that were in there and edited it.. And sorry for all the NagixOmi, they're one of my favorite couples and I just had to put them in there! And I promise I'll have more stuff about Weiss's situation (Lots of s's_) later. Just tell me what you want and I'll try to accommodate. I need ideas! *.*; 


	3. Morning

Okaaay- short, short chapter this time- (Gets clonked over the head by the reviewers) Sorry! I just felt like updating again but I've been so tiered lately I haven't written very much. Anyway, I hope you like what I do have. More on Schu-chan will come later, cause I finally worked that out... I think... and I've finally brought in the last member of Schwarz! 

Chapter 3

Day 2. Monday. 6:30 a.m.

__

Ring. Ring.

Was that the timer for Brad's coffee? The dark haired man hopefully lifted his eyelids and glanced at the empty coffee machine.

__

Ring. Ring.

Nope. It was the phone. He glanced from the coffee machine to the oven clock. 6:30 am.

__

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Crawford groggily stood up from his chair at the kitchen table and hobbled to where the phone was perched on the counter. In order to pick up the phone, he had to release the baseball bat he had been carrying all night, which was a challenge due to the fact that it was duck taped to his hand.

__

Ring. Ring.

He had stayed awake all night on guard until he was sure that Nagi and Omi had actually gone to sleep, and Schuldig would stop calling and trying to talk him into phone sex. He had finally decided to migrate to the kitchen for coffee around 4:00. Unfortunately, he had made the mistake of stopping to sit down before getting the coffee. Considering that his ass hurt and it was now 6:30, he figured he had clonked out at the table seconds after sitting down and had slept for the last two and a half-hours. Knowing he had been asleep for a while, Crawford's first instinct was to check Omi and Nagi's respectable rooms to make sure their respectably horny bottoms were still in there.

__

Ring. Ring.

But first he had to answer the phone.

Now very much awake, Crawford was ready to bust a bottle on whoever's ass had called him at a time like this. He grabbed the phone. "PHONE SEX IS IMMORAL!" He shouted furiously into the receiver, expecting it to be his German stalker for the hundredth time.

"Um... Hello?"

Brad was surprised to hear a slightly deeper voice than what he had been expecting. OK, so it wasn't Schu. Shit. "Yes. Hello. How may I help you?" He cleared his throat as he spoke, trying desperately to recover from the undignified introduction he had just made.

"It's... Fujimiya." The Weiss leader announced from the other end of the line, sounding cautious about using his name on the phone with his former enemy.

Cockily lifting an eyebrow, the American remarked, "Having problems already, _Ran_? I shouldn't be surprised if you are mentally incapable of completing this mission."

Aya cringed at the use of his real name, but was quick to return the insult. "So, _Bradley_, you sound a bit tiered. I don't suppose you would be having any problems with our sweet little Omi?" he inquired smartly. "And I'm sure that your youngest member, Naoe, has been behaving himself perfectly in your presence, despite the sweet little distraction that has been brought into your humble home?"

__

Sweet, my ass...

Brad opened his mouth.

"........"

*sweatdrop*

And closed it without saying anything.

Aya's voice seemed to leer at him from across the phone line. "So, how long, exactly, **have** you been up on duty, Crawford?"

__

Twitch.

"I'll have you know that everything is perfectly under control, if that's the only reason for your call." His clipped tone of voice was a dead giveaway warning that the leader of Weiss should not try to ruffle his feathers at the moment. Figuratively speaking, of course. Because the thought of Brad Crawford dressed up in a feathery bird suit, his plumage in a disarray, is worse than seeing a person sucking on a lemon, while standing, naked, in the middle of a busy street during the winter.

Don't. Ever. Do that.

The red haired Weiss member shook his head, somewhat disturbed by the thought. "Actually," he said, less enthusiastically, "I have a question about... Shu...dech."

__

Twitch.

"That's _Schuldig._" The American corrected. "And no, he doesn't usually pour mashed potatoes down someone's pants to say 'hello.' But in your case, I wouldn't worry."

Ran blinked and shifted in his seat uncomfortably. _Guess he doesn't know what happened _after_ the mashed potatoes...._ "Actually," he continued, unfazed, "I have a question about _Shuldit's _sleeping habits. Does he always sleep in such... bazaar positions? I'm looking at him now, and he's laying on top of his dresser with one leg strait up against the wall and his arm holding out the other. Plus his head is hanging off the edge. Is that OK?"

Brad sighed. "If you think his positions are weird, you should hear him sleep-talk."

"OK. But when does he wake up? I've tried poking him and stuff, but he just giggles and drools."

"What time does your friend, Kudou, usually wake up?" Brad asked, unbothered by the fact that he had been using his archrivals' real names comfortably throughout the whole conversation.

"Usually around one." Ran replied, not realizing how casually he was speaking to his former nemesis.

"He should be up by then. Unless-"

"If he has a hangover, right?" Ran finished understandingly.

"Yeah. Kudou, too?" (If only Brad knew how motherly he sounded then.)

"Un. It happens a lot."

"These kids..."

"No kidding."

There was a long pause as Crawford and Ran ACTUALLY realized how they sounded, and fumbled to get hold of themselves again.

"Crawford?" Ran whispered nervously. "Did we just have, like... a moment?"

"This is a very sensitive subject."

(The author grabs her Minnie Me doll and bursts into song. 

"Just...the...two of us!"

OK, so I can't sing. That's why you're reading this instead of listening to my voice.)

"Well," Ran wrapped up, "that's all I needed, so... I'll be sending you a mission report later."

"Goodbye, then."

"Goodbye."

Brad promptly hung up. _I think I'm a little closer to knowing what an out of body experience feels like..._

In another area of the house, Omi was sleepily crawling out of bed in his pink sheep pajamas. He had a hell of a crick in his neck from his stone-imitation pillow, and to relieve it, began stirring up fantasies of laying his head on Nagi's soft, warm lap as his neck was being messaged.

"....." 

Realizing he was drooling, Omi shook himself awake with the reminder that Brad Crawford was still in the house, and as long as that was a fact, he and Nagi would probably never get together. _We'd be better of in a Catholic school._ Omi thought to himself as he opened the door to his room and stepped out, hardly paying attention to where he was going.

__

Thunk.

Omi was startled as he felt himself slam into something that felt strangely muscular. A pair of strong hands encircled his shoulders and held Omi steady before he could stumble backwards. "Oh! Um, I'm sorry." Omi stuttered, flushing embarrassedly. 

Finally finding his ground, Omi looked up to face the person he had just run into...

...and his gut hit the floor like a jackrabbit during hunting season. 

There, standing calmly before him, still holding his shoulders firmly, was Farferello.

Omi stiffened. _I just **had** to relate this place to a Catholic school..._

TO BE CONTINUED....

Mwahahaha! I'm so evil to leave it off there. Actually, I just really need some sleep... UoU; I'll try to write more soon. Gomen... (Head hits the keyboard) *ZzzZzzZzz* 


	4. Later that morning

Sorry I haven't updated in a long time! I was going through my Microsoft files when I saw this story and realized I'd been neglecting it. Hopefully I'm not totally off track now. Oh, and we finally get a taste of that SchuxYohji everyone is so obsessed with! 

Chapter 4

"Uh...Ko...ko-n-ni-chi-wa." Omi was speaking as if he was taking to a stupid foreigner. Wait. Actually, he was. But the point was he wasn't sure how well Farfarello knew Japanese. Or any language. Did he even speak an intelligible language? Or did he just bark like a dog, like the man Omi saw on TV? Oh, crazy people confused Omi. He should be prepared for anything.

He certainly wasn't prepared for the response he got, though.

Farfarello released him and propped his hands on his hips. "Sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going. You're not hurt, are you?"

Ok, his tone of voice wasn't exactly the most sincere Omi had ever heard, but at least the man was speaking clearly. And sanely. Hold on a sec. Since when did Farfarello speak sanely? "I'm fine." Omi said, voice sounding much smaller than he had intended.

Farfarello stared at him.

His one visible eye looked normal.

...That's even scarier than when he looks bloodthirsty and insane. 

After watching Omi watching him watching him watching him...right... he finally shrugged and walked past the younger boy. 

Omi stood there in shock for a few moments, but he was pulled out of it when a strange aroma suddenly filled his nose. It was coming from the kitchen.

Omi: "Hm. I wonder what that could be?"

__

Omi wondered what that could be.

Omi: (blinks) "Yeah. I just said that."

__

Omi blinked and said he had just said that.

Omi: "Is there an echo in here?"

__

Omi asked no one in particular if there was an echo in here.

Omi: (Freaking out) Okay! Cut it out!

__

Omi began freaking out because he was hearing strange voices in his head and he was telling them to cut it out because he couldn't do anything to stop them!!!

Omi screamed like a little girl in a cheesy horror movie and ran away, heading towards the kitchen and the odd smell that was still emanating from it.

(The author chuckles evilly from behind a door, playing with her creepy voice changer. _Hey, I've gotta get my kicks somehow.^_^_)

Brad thought he heard a scream from the hall when something small and blond suddenly shot through the kitchen door, flew through air, and latched onto his face with kitten-sharp claws. Brad shrieked and tore at the howling creature on his head, thinking Farfarello had let the raccoons at his Viagra again.

"Die you hyper-doped-up piece of road kill!"

"Braaaaaaadleeeeeey!!!"

Brad stopped flailing suddenly and found he was able to pluck the 'creature' off his face fairly easily. Holding the chibified Omi out in front of him with both hands, Brad flipped his bangs out of his eyes and managed to regain his composure. "Tsukiyono," he said calmly, "what are you doing?"

"I see dead people."

Brad let him go.

Thump. "Ow."

"Get a grip."

"Yes, sir."

Brad turned back to the stove where he had been cooking eggs. Omi's face popped up in front of him. "What?" Brad snapped, peeved. 

Omi stared at him like a confused child. "Brad, you're wearing a pink apron."

"So?!"

Omi blinked slowly. Twice. "Never mind." With that, he disappeared, and was suddenly sitting at the kitchen table. "So...what's cooking?"

"Eggs."

"Are eggs supposed to look like that?"

Twitch. "They're special eggs." 

Riiight, Omi thought, deciding to change the subject. "Hey, Bradley?"

"Call me Crawford, dammit."

Omi made a face. "Meanie. Anyway, what's with Farfarello? I just saw him in the hall and he was acting like a human being. Is that normal? Does he just lose all his psycho-ness when he's in the house?"

"I put him on medication."

"Medication?"

"Prozac," Brad said, smiling to himself. Ahh, the power of non-drowsy anti-depressants. (And hyphens.)

A moment later, Nagi walked in, straitening his blue polo shirt and combing his fingers through his disheveled brown hair.

(An equation for all people who think that Nagi would not wear polo shirts: Computer geek= plain dork shirt. I don't care how cool you think you are.)

"Morning, Brad," he said, peeking over the older man's shoulder. "What's cooking?"

"Eggs."

"Are eggs supposed to look like that?"

Brad imagined maiming Nagi with the spatula and frying the boy's face for breakfast. Then, realizing he was going Jeffery Dahmer on our asses, he calmly said: "Sit down."

Nagi went to the table, sat next to Omi, and was content to make goo-goo eyes at him for the rest of the time Brad ignored them.

Brad cracked another egg into the pan just as Farfarello walked in. 

"Farf?" he asked. "Are you going to eat with us?"

Farfie took one look at the two boys playing footsy at the table and shook his head. "I'll eat outside. It's a... nice day."

Before anyone could say anything, menacing clouds accumulated in the sky and started pouring rain and hail.

Everyone: "...."

Farfarello sighed. "Yeah, God hates me." He looked to Crawford. "I'll eat upstairs. By the way, what's cooking?"

"Eggs."

Farfarello eyed the jello-y green blobs of toxic-looking substance that Brad was cooking. "Are eggs supposed to look like that?"

"I HATE YOU ALLLLL!!!!!!!!"

**Eyecatch** Minnie's little angel muse runs by with a banner that says: CALIFORNIA GROWN CHICKENS! **End eyecatch**

Aya Fujimiya wondered how long it took to be declared clinically insane. He was pretty sure he was almost there at this point. (As if he wasn't mad-crazy already.)

From the other room, Schuldig and Yohji could still be heard going at it after a whole hour. Aya couldn't believe it. The stamina they had was incredible.

God knows he could never play rock, scissors, paper for 60 minutes strait! 

(Honestly, all you sick-minded people...)

Their voices trailed through the walls like a demented tribal chant, as they played round after round. In unison they would yell, "Rock! Scissors! Paper!" Then, after every time, Yohji would shout, "Dammit! One more!"

Didn't he realize by now that he couldn't win that game against someone who could read his mind?

"Rock! Scissors! Paper! ...Dammit! One more!"

.....Obviously not.

Either way, Aya was about ready to smash both their heads with a ROCK, gouge their eyes out with SCISSORS, and give them nasty PAPER cuts with lemon squeezes. But then, to his relief, the game suddenly stopped. Schuldig had apparently gotten bored of winning. He heard the German say: "All right, Yohji, you lost. You know what that means."

With Yohji grumbling behind him, Schuldig passed by Aya's open door on the way to the 'guest bedroom.' Just out of curiosity for why he had had to tolerate their game for one wasted hour of his life, Aya halted the pair. "Hey!" he snapped. "What were you guys doing anyway?"

Schuldig smiled in a way that only Schuldig can smile and tugged Yohji by the collar. "We were going to play Swahilian sex slave and we had to determine who would be the slave this time." With that, the two playboys disappeared into the guestroom, and Aya wisely decided he needed to take a _long, hard_... walk.

TO BE CONTINUED...

(OK, I'm sick-minded to! You know I love you people!) Yeah, short bursts of inspiration... Hopefully I'll update soon. ...Hopefully. 


End file.
